


Dead Men Don't Bite

by TNB



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action/Adventure, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Treasure Island, Drama & Romance, Historical Fiction meets Science Fiction, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutiny, Pirates, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-04-21 07:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14280375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TNB/pseuds/TNB
Summary: Keith has worked at his father's inn all his life, until a space pirate with a missing arm barges in and changes everything.With the promise of gold and adventure, Keith turns his eyes upwards.





	1. A Spacefaring Man at the 'Galaxy Grog and Inn'

Many of the people I have found myself in the company of have asked me to write down the happenings of Gold Core giving the utmost detail save the actual coordinates of the planet, as we are still excavating the site. I write now, going back to my 20th year when the whole sordid affair began; when the crusty spaceman with the bionic eye did first appear to take lodging at my father’s “Galaxy Grog and Inn”.

He was a large Galran two heads taller than me, fur soft purple in a shade that contrasted with his hard attitude and mannerisms and barreling chest. His armor suit was high collared, color blocked in red and black that screamed a warning to anyone that might meet him. It was only covered by an old brown leather coat that swept the floors and had been patched as many times as there might be grains of desert sand on our floorboards. He had cruel looking claws, and a dark purple scar along his brow and cheek where his taillight-red bionic eye lay.

But most troubling of all was his large prosthetic arm, twice the size of his own flesh one, that clung to his left shoulder by what looked like a stream of light, no doubt an energy source able to keep the thing functional. I can still see the way his head twisted and turned as he checked the desert and hummed a tune to himself, before loudly belting out the song I would come to know so well:

Fifteen men on a dead planet’s crust-

Hey yo, take a bottle to that ‘un!

He then fisted his flesh hand and banged on the door until my father answered and called for a glass of nunvil before he could so much as speak. The intimidating fellow brushed his body past my father and plodded into the nearest chair, his pockets jingling as his coat draped over the sides. I promptly delivered the glass and he took it with a glance my way, before looking out the window at the dunes of sand beyond, only broken by the rare ship between them.

“Traffic good through here?” he said in his gruff voice, befitting his gruff appearance. “Not much company as of late,” my father replied, the dourness apparent in his voice. The Galran scratched his chin, as if in thought, then fished out a number of Gac from his pocket before dropping them on the nearest table. “Let me know when I work through that, ay? I’ll be needing a bed.”

And so, we found ourselves host to a most peculiar ship Captain, as he was certain to let us know he was indeed a Captain. So insistent he was, that we were to call him “The Captain” and nothing else. And as gruff as his words were, and as poor as his clothes looked, he surely had none of the makings of a man who sailed the open skies. It was a wonder he got much done at all with how many glasses of nunvil he took daily.

Each morning I would descend the stairs from my room to get my chores done, and he would be at his regular table eagerly awaiting breakfast and his first glass of the day. He would eye the window sourly, and clench and unclench his bionic arm. At least, I assumed it was bionic for it had no markings of any kind to lend to its maker.

This particular morning, I came downstairs quite unhappily as my father and I had been arguing once more. It was not uncommon for us to spat over insignificant things, but my persistence on leaving the Inn and joining the Space Academy was, to my father, nothing less than treason. I was in no mood to humor the Captain and his dark songs, but he called me over as I glared through the dark hair making a mess over my face.

“Ay lad, how’s about doing an old Galran a favor?” he said tepidly, looking out the window instead of looking me in the eye. I asked him what about, and he promised me a bit of money each month in return for “keeping a keen eye out for a man with one arm” and should he appear I was to tell the Captain immediately.

It was an odd request, but no odder than the man himself who was also missing an arm. Naturally I accepted, the money would be well spent on parts for my hovercraft, though I couldn’t help but wonder what this man with the missing arm looked like. In my head I conjured a devilish alien, taller than the Captain and twice as broad, with a blood red bionic arm and large yellow teeth; Over time the vision became more convoluted, now he had glowing eyes and a forked tongue. I wished nothing more than to sate my curiosity, but I was not enticed enough to ask any more from the Captain and risk losing out on the money.

It was tough company with the Captain, my father had a hard-enough time keeping business without the tottering old fool wallowing in drink and singing his wicked songs. And some nights he would drink a great deal more than comfortable, and he would force our patrons to chime in to his songs. Our company would tremble as they sang, “Hey yo, take a bottle to that ‘un,” worried should the Captain call them out for not singing loud enough; or worse, for singing too loud over him.

But nothing chilled the blood more than his stories of his time in space. They were less stories and more horror tales that made you wonder if a boring life on Earth is the closest thing to Heaven available. He told of aliens that sprayed acid, and how he watched a shipmate disintegrate before his very eyes. He told of women who would lay with you, only to lay you out with drink and take your money along with a few spare body parts; “Lost a third kidney to that one,” he laughed as he opened his armor to show the pale scar visible between tufts of his fur.

But I was always fascinated, and it was much to my father’s disliking, though I believe he put up with my socialization with the captain if it kept me around to help with the Inn. And as much as the people shivered at his tales, and gawked at his songs, there was a strong magnetism to the Galran that drew crowds of people feigning dislike as they watched on with interest.

As he lived with us, my father began to grow tougher in asking for money seeing as the Captain would be stingy in sharing his due. But my father was no small man either and had grown thick skin in the barren desert that we called home. In my fits of teenage anger, I would shout curses and call him prickly as a cactus which would make him laugh and then tell me to roll off like a tumbleweed before he found more work for me.

I knew the Captain was not want for money, as his pockets always jingled as he trod through the Inn, but he never changed his clothes or bought new ones. His armor was the same as always, a dark red and black, but it had grown dull with wear and desert sand. His coat had even more patches than I remember him arriving with, and I took this to mean he had been mending it himself.

My father, still, would sternly ask for the money until the Captain grumbled in defeat and handed over a handful of Gac that he owed. I have no doubt this stress had been taking to my father, for he had been growing more ill by the day. And so, it was my duty to call Doctor Kolivan to the Inn from the next town over, a much livelier place to be sure. The trip would take half a day, meaning it was no small request to call a doctor.

The next day as we awaited Dr. Kolivan, the Captain was in his usual spot to be sure, already gone on Nunvil and cheerily singing his song:

Fifteen men on a dead planet’s crust-

Hey yo, take a bottle to that ‘un!

The devil had a drink and turned them all to dust-

Hey yo, take a bottle to that ‘un!

At this point I could only suppose the devil was the Captain himself taking a drink, but this would be an enlightenment in due time.

Dr. Kolivan entered then and looked over my father in the parlor area much to my father’s dislike. He was a large half-Galran with a huge downturned face and yellow eyes; a ragged scar ran down his right eye and split the red on his brow that looked almost painted on. Although he was not from Earth, he easily fit in with the locals; his personality was sharp and blunt, but not unkind, and he wore local dress that gave away a wealth any honorable doctor could be found to have.

For an upstanding man I had always wondered how he managed to obtain such a scar, it seemed more fit for a merchant or explorer than a doctor. Surely only men who bring on trouble could acquire such a thing?

As Dr. Kolivan went about his business, the Captain seemed to pick up the volume of his oily song. Dr. Kolivan did not so much as flinch or twitch an ear, and so the Captain banged his palm against the table in a way to bring about attention to himself. Dr. Kolivan ignored this too and kept on with my father.

The Captain finally broke, “Silence, there! I mean to have a proper audience!”

Dr. Kolivan finally turned his way and gave him a dark look. “Are you in need of assistance, sir?” he said in a low tone. When the Captain said he meant to have silence, Dr. Kolivan merely said “If you continue to take more than one drink a day, you will have an eternal silence,” and looked away from him, done.

The Captain’s face flushed a deeper purple in anger, and he let out a roar of fury while springing to his feet and rushing to Dr. Kolivan, his large mechanical arm starting to faintly glow. Dr. Kolivan remained seated even as the Captain drew nearer, though with no obvious weapon. I noticed he never carried a sword or gun on his person and found this to be odd considering his personality.

The Captain stood above him, for Dr. Kolivan had not risen to meet him, and instead said, “By my word, I suggest you extradite yourself or I assure you a place in the Sheriff’s quarters and your name shall be spread eagerly.”

At this the Captain’s eyes grew wide as he startled himself, and slowly returned to his chair with a low grumble. He was much more docile after the exciting events of that afternoon, only peeking over his shoulder every so often, and soon after Dr. Kolivan took his leave with a formal goodbye.


	2. Morvok Appears and Disappears

As the winter pressed on and became a bleak, cold thing so too did my father’s health. So poorly was he that I was taken up to caring for the inn alone and had not the energy to spare towards our most dubious Captain. It was just as well, since he was to part from our lives soon, though his affairs were a different story.

Contrary to what many believe the desert does have a winter and, though not as harsh as the ones north, it still settles into your bones. One such morning – the sun just barely peaking on the horizon, and the air still frigid from night – I found the Captain striding out to nowhere in particular, way off towards the east dunes. His hulking mass only a black outline on the horizon with the sliver of sun shining out, and his large, prosthetic arm carrying a telescope. I watched from the window as he placed it gently in the sand and pointed it towards the sky, wondering how he could see anything with the light breaking now.

As I went about my morning chores of setting the tables and tending to breakfasts – alone, as my father was bedridden – I heard the light tinkle of the front door’s bells and expected the Captain in for his food. It was to my surprise when a short and stocky Galran walked in wearing the traditional armor suit and a dirty blue coat. He did not have the same feeling of intensity that the Captain had, and his eyes lacked pupils, favoring a pure white sclera that would have been frightening had he not a weaselly demeanor.

“A glass of nunvil for this poor soul, would you?” he asked. As I fetched his drink and brought it back the stranger ushered me closer, “This seat here’s not taken, is it lad?” he said while side eying the breakfast laid out. “I don’t mean to start nothing but I’m looking for a friend of sorts. My friend Sendak might’ve been through these parts.”

I told him I did not know anyone named Sendak, sparing any mention of the Captain. While this alien was not missing an arm, he was certainly previous company with the Captain by the looks of it. Every alarm in my head was ringing off that this was no doubt a pirate, and now I was sure the Captain was one as well.

“Well, let’s say you have a guest that’s missing his right arm. And let’s say that same guest of yours has a scar down the left side of his face. Would you be privy to tell me whereabouts that guest might be?”

I denied him once more, and the pirate slyly jingled his pocked while letting a small bag peak through the top. “And how would you feel about it now? This inn is looking mighty dusty, could use some new paint or a roof.”

Before I could speak a heavy plodding came up to the front door, and I heard the telltale sign that the Captain had returned for breakfast. As he beat his boots upon the concrete porch to loosen any sand the pirate grabbed me by my throat and, pulling me down, held a gun upon my temple.

“Easy boy, this’ll be a nice little reunion with Sendak. Don’t you say nothing now and ruin the surprise.”

I had no weapon upon my person and felt utterly helpless in that moment, something I would promise to never do again. Sweat beaded at my temple as the pirate and I waited for the door to open and the bell to ring. The pirate was surely as nervous as I felt, as he kept swallowing loudly and fidgeting with the gun in his hand.

The Captain entered the inn backwards with his telescope under his arm, brushing the desert dust off his patchwork coat. He turned to face us and call for his breakfast, but upon noticing the Galran he looked stricken. His face must have lost blood because it dropped two shades into a pale and unnatural color, and his mouth was open and unmoving.

“Sendak,” the pirate called in a voice that he strained to sound confident, “how’s about greeting an old friend and shipmate?”

“Morvok!” said he.

“Who better to find you in this hollowed out coffin!” Morvok said with a newfound ease. I noticed with this ease he was relaxing his hold on his gun and my neck and found myself able to move more. Sendak squeezed the telescope harder under his flesh arm and spoke.

“If you’re here for money I got none of it left save what I owe the inn.”

“I’m not a fool, Sendak; it’s not money I want, and you know well enough about that. If you don’t hand it over now, you’ll be visited by more than just me I guarantee it. Old Zarkon gone and done himself in, and now it’s just waiting out there for us. And you thought you could pull one over on your old shipmates?”

“Shipmates!” Sendak cried with a dark mirth, “as if there were any of you left who had a lick of loyalty. I was with him to the end and I’ll be taking my due, thanks.”

Morvok’s forced calm demeanor was slipping into anxiousness again, “there’s enough of us left to put up a fight. And if it comes to blows, it comes to blows.”

“Then let it come to blows!” Sendak roared, and then charged at Morvok. He lifted his metal arm and it glowed a spiderweb of purple, the telescope still nestled under his right side. I was sharp enough to thrust my palm up and force Morvok’s gun away while dislodging his hold on my neck. In his panic the gun went off and a laser beam hit the bar, scorching it.

I lunged to the side before the Captain reached Morvok and ran to the bar, breaking a glass bottle and holding it to my front in self-defense. Morvok dodged the Captain’s arm narrowly and gave a weak cry as it crashed through the table, splintering it beyond repair. Morvok ran to the door, firing his laser behind his sporadically as the Captain snarled and whipped around in pursuit of him.

I watched from behind the bar as they ran out into the desert, the sun blinding as it was now risen. The Captain put up a solid pursuit, but Morvok’s heels were too clean and he disappeared into his ship while yelling something I could not hear from the open door. His small pod took off and left, leaving the Captain wheezing as he returned to the inn.

“Nunvil. A glass. Now!”

Startled by his raised voice, I scrambled to bring him a glass as he dropped into the closest chair and clutched his chest. The bottle of nunvil was just missed by one of Morvok’s shots, the scorched hole next to it still smoking. He took the glass and downed it in one go, sighing heavily and looking down at his feet. His complexion had not lost the clammy color, and the telescope had not left his side once.

“Lad, help me to my room,” he said. I took him under his metal arm and did my best to bear his weight up the stairs. Despite my wiry appearance, I retained muscle from my work on the hovercraft, and while no easy task I felt some pride in my ability to shoulder his person.

Once to his room, he landed heavily upon the bed and grunted for me to leave him. As I closed the door I heard the sound of his opening something within the room, but at that moment Dr. Kolivan knocked on the door, here to see my father. I ran downstairs to let the good doctor in and asked for him to check on Sendak as well.

“Has the drink finally taken to him?” he asked, coolly. I told him it had not, but it would if he traded blows with another pirate. Dr. Kolivan’s eyes widened at this, and he agreed to see him after checking on my father.

True to his word, when he finished with my father Dr. Kolivan walked across the hall to the room the Captain was occupying. When he entered the Captain’s room he spoke in a hushed voice, and I could not hear from outside until the Captain started yelling curses for him to leave. I could only imagine he was being told off for his drinking again, and Dr. Kolivan emerged not long after. Before stepping out he called back over his shoulder, “mark my words, the name of nunvil for you shall be death.”

With a formal goodbye the doctor departed leaving my sick father and the strange spaceman in my care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talk to me on twitter! @TNBwrites


	3. The Black Spot

The following morning I was delivering some bread and water to the Captain’s room along with medicine Dr. Kolivan had left behind when I found him in bed looking out of sorts. His eyes were closed, and he moaned pathetically, “Keith, lad, a glass of nunvil.”

I was not taken with the act for sympathy, as my father was not progressing any better with his own health, and found the Captain’s actions in sour taste. I denied his request profusely, stating the doctor’s own words as law, and handed him the medicine which he took with a grimace.

“You’re a good boy, a good boy. And you’ll be a proper man soon, I can see it in the lines on your face. By word, you’ll be a man like your father in no time, and you’ll need that stubbornness to see to the inn. But Keith, I’m a man of the skies, and we men of the skies need our drink to keep on. What kinda man would I be without a glass to keep me on? Just one, it won’t hurt. I’ll give you a treat, a real treat boy.”

He jumped out of bed with a vigor I had not seen in him since he first arrived at our inn and knelt before the chest of his belongings that sat to the side. It was a deep black with a purple engraving on the top that looked like the head of a trident flipped upside down, with three long prongs. It glowed faintly in the dim light, much like the Captain’s arm had during his clash with the pirate Morvok.

I watched as the captain pulled a small key from his coat pocket and jammed it into the chest, hearing a whir and click as the lock opened and the chest top popped up. As the Captain rummaged through his belongings I could once again see the telescope he so tightly held the day before, along with a small kit for sewing, some coin bags of various currencies with their planet stamped on, and other odds and ends. He eventually gave a small cheer of triumph and turned around to face me with a look of strange discernment.

“You’ll have to believe me, Keith, when I tell you this is liquid gold; liquid gold straight from the source, old Zarkon’s Gold Core itself,” he said, as he opened his flesh palm to reveal a small vial of what truly looked to be liquid gold. It swirled in the glass encasement and glittered brightly, even in the faint light. “Aye, it ain’t a fairy tale and I got the coordinates right here safe. So, what says you, boy? I’ll give it to you if you keep bringing me my daily nunvil. I’m not a man, not a spacefaring man without it I tell you,” and he gently dropped it into my hands. “And you’re to still keep a keen eye out for a man with one arm or I’ll have the black spot on me in a dobosh.”

I could hardly argue with him, if it was truly liquid gold from the infamous Gold Core then it was well worth the trouble of getting him a glass of nunvil and letting him stay at the inn for the rest of the year. Everyone knew the story, even the patrons who pretended to have no interest in the Captain surely knew of the space pirate Zarkon and his crew of cutthroats.

“But how did you acquire it?” I asked with no little enthusiasm in my voice, but he just pushed me out and demanded his glass of the vile drink.

As I fixed his drink I watched the liquid gold swirl and gleam in its glass encasement, wondering just how the old alien found it. I fastened it to a small chain and wore it round my neck tucked under my shirt, fearful should it be lost from my person. There was a strange magnetism to the vial, one I could not yet comprehend.

My thoughts of the curious gift were cut short, as my father died later that evening. Upon his deathbed he bequeathed to me a beautiful dagger belonging to my mother whom I had never known, and whom we had never discussed. My heart was torn between joy at this new knowledge, and grief at my father’s passing. We may not have seen eye-to-eye on much, but he was the only family I had, so you must understand why the Captain was the last worry on my mind.

Preparing the funeral arrangements while tending to the inn which now belonged to me was no small task; and consumed by grief, I was much without my wits about me. Over the course of the week I mourned my loss while hosting visits from neighbors and patrons who meant no ill will but did nothing to ease my terrible mood, all the while the Captain would sing his horrible song and demand his daily drink. And with the funeral over and my father gone, I was left alone without a family.

The next day I was out cleaning the front sign off from the buildup of sand and ship smoke when I heard a slow dragging sound from behind. There in the distance was a stooped, hooded figure slowly making its way towards the inn. They moved sluggishly which prolonged the dragging sound along the sand and gave them a much more ominous appearance. I held steady, my knife at my hip, and prepared for another pirate.

The figure made it up to the front door and I could see their face was hidden by the dark cloak, but they made no move to attack me. When they finally spoke I could now tell it was an older woman, “Is this a house of rest? Will any kind soul help an old blind woman and tell her where she may have found herself?”

“You are at the Galaxy Grog and Inn,” I said plainly, “do you have a need for a room?”

“You sound like a kind boy; will you give this poor woman who has lost her sight a hand inside?”

I held out my arm and she took it quickly, giving away her blind ruse and I instantly understood my mistake. She squeezed at my upper arm, and with my other hand I drew my dagger; but it was too late, she was teeming with power and her eyes glowed yellow under her hood. I could not make out her lineage, but I knew this too was an alien. And a witch.

I felt heat on my arm, and electricity crackled around it causing a sharp pain through my body as I dropped my knife. She laughed viciously and said, “Take me straight to Sendak, or you will feel a much greater pain.”

I lead her into the house, her grip bruising my arm, and found the Captain in the parlor. He raised his head and at once the color ran out of him, and he looked much worse than his last encounter. It was less of terror and more of a mortal fear, one you would have should you know you were headed to death. He looked ready to rise from his seat, but the witch denied him this opportunity.

“Now, Sendak, you will sit where you are until I have delivered what I came here for,” she said, “I see your arm is still working, it’s a shame you won’t be having it much longer. Now hold it out for me.”

Shaking, the Captain did as he was told and held out his bionic arm, slowly opening the claws and placing it in front of the witch. She rummaged through one of her pockets, and then gently placed a small square of paper into his metal palm.

“We’ll be in touch,” she said as she released her grip on my arm, and so quickly made her way out of the inn that from the swish of her cloak it looked as though she may well have been floating. It was many minutes before either the Captain or myself found ourselves able to move, but the Captain found himself first as he peered into his palm.

“Midnight on the dot!” he cried, “that gives us half a day, we have time yet!” as he heaved himself up to his feet.

He made to walk forward, but lurched instead and clutched at his chest, his claws scraping at his fur. I saw his eyes go wide as he stumbled and tried to catch him to no avail. He fell heavily face-first to the ground, and with a quick check I could see he was struck dead.


	4. The Space-Chest

As the shock of the Captain’s death wore off I thought it in my best interest to check the scrap of paper that had been the cause of his untimely demise. With all the force my body could muster, I heaved him onto his side, and then onto his back unearthing his metal hand in the process. His claws were stuck tightly in death, locked like a wild animal’s jaws.

Quickly and quietly as I could, I scrambled to the front door and peered out in search of the witch. When I was sufficiently satisfied that she was not going to pop out and aggravate an attack, I ran to grab my knife from where it lay in the sand. I ran back into the house, throwing the door closed and locking it as well as I could in the moment.

At the late Captain’s side once more, I jammed my knife into his metal palm and twisted with ferocity. It made a horrible scratching noise, but the claws finally gave way and the slip of paper fell out gentle as a breeze. There in the middle of the scrap was an ominous, black dot. It was large in size, taking up a considerable amount of the paper, but a color like none I had ever seen. Black could hardly describe the paint, it seemed more void of light of any kind and gave me an unsettling feeling deep within.

While I could understand the Captain’s unease at the sight, a very literal deathly fear was another thing entirely. I flipped the paper over and saw writing on the back. Scrawled out in barely legible handwriting, a summons: “Midnight. Galaxy Grog and Inn.”

The witch would return, and she would probably bring Morvok or worse. Whatever she was after it was most likely among the Captain’s possessions. Steeling myself, I buried my hand deep within his coat pockets and came out half the richer; a few coins of varying currency, pocket lint, and the key to the Captain’s chest. I immediately made for the Captain’s room to search his things; if I could find what the pirates and witch were after perhaps I would be able to convince them to leave quietly.

His room was as plain as it ever was, void of possessions save his night things laid out on the bed and the chest next to it. I knelt down and pushed the key into the lock. The strange and ominous symbol on top glowed faint once more, and with a whir and click the chest top popped up just as it had for the Captain. I quickly pulled out his things, throwing his coin bags to the side along with his sewing kit and the like.

There at the bottom, wrapped in dirty old cloth, was the telescope. There was nothing beneath it, and I thought back to how he had gripped it so tightly during his fight with Morvok. It crossed my mind that this must certainly be the item the witch and Morvok were after, it’s importance a mystery to me. I thought it would be easy to turn over, but something deep within compelled me to take the telescope out just to be sure.

I walked out of the house and east through the dunes towards where I found the Captain that one morning. It was a large item, and had a solid weight to it, the ease with which the Captain carried it not lost on my mind. I extended its legs and set it down upon the sand to my height. With a spark of excitement, I searched through the lens upwards, to the sky.

It was beautiful. I could see the sky clearly, despite being the middle of the day. Each star and planet pronounced with ethereal light amongst the heavens, the sunlight’s pollution not touching a drop. I felt at once lost among the constellations and part of it as well. But it didn’t explain the bizarre circumstances regarding the Captain and the pirates. I pulled back from the telescope and gave it a once over. Hidden below its gullet was a button, not pronounced in any way. I once more looked through the lens and pressed down on it.

The beauty of the sky was suddenly overcome with words and paths, neon and standing out brightly. Each planet and star labelled. I pulled at the lens and suddenly I was deeper in space, amongst stars and constellations I did not recognize. The neon path was still there, and I could see it stretch on further. A path, it was a path!

I wracked my brain for the words the Captain used, his mentioning Gold Core and having it coordinates. I thought it must have been a joke. His mentioning knowing Zarkon to the pirate Morvok and being ‘with him to the end.’ I pulled the vial of liquid gold from my chest and looked at it with renewed interest. Perhaps keeping the telescope would be worth it but fighting the witch and Morvok would be a challenge.

I thought of my father, and the inn. Of my childhood spent here, and how I never knew my mother. I thought of the Space Academy, and how I never got the chance to go. With a determination that had yet to fail me, and a particular fondness for challenges, I decided to hunker down. I would defend the inn, along with the telescope, and then make my way to Gold Core somehow. I would need a plan, but I thought my chances good.

With a heavy reluctance, I pulled away from the telescope and, folding up its legs neatly, I headed back to the inn. Once inside I began immediately closing all the doors and shutters. It was lucky there was no other company at the moment, the locals and drifters alike staying away during my mourning period. But being alone with a deceased person was not ideal, so I covered the Captain’s body with a sheet out of respect.

With the doors and windows latched, I headed to the cellar to find some leather straps. I covered the telescope with the dirty cloth it was found in and used the leather straps to fasten it to my back as a makeshift rucksack. This left my hands free, but my speed slower.

Over the course of the afternoon I made as many preparations as I could to ensure my safety, gathering what few weapons were available and loading my hovercraft with some food and essential items in the event I had to make a clean break. I was more tired than ideal but felt sturdy in all other regards.

When I found it quarter to midnight I hid myself behind the bar facing the door and waited. Sure enough, at midnight on the dot I heard the dragging sound of a cloak through the sand as it descended upon the inn. The sound of footsteps were in tow, but I could not make out how many. Then there came a light knock.


	5. The Witch

I waited a healthy moment, wondering if the visitors might see the lights extinguished and turn around without hassle. But luck was not with me at that moment for I could hear the witch call to someone behind her.

“Take the door down.”

More plodding footsteps until one of them fell on the door, kicking it down swiftly and with what seemed to be little resistance. From my holding behind the bar I could see the alien that made swift work of the door was large and towering, much like the Captain, but had a sickly yellow and green color about him that was adorned with scales. The witch followed him, her cloak trailing and barely making a sound on the hardwood flooring. Bringing up the rear was a smaller alien with four arms, two brandishing guns and one with an oil lantern.

“Sendak!” the witch cried, “we’ve come to complete our business, show yourself!”

The first alien was walking through the foyer and into the parlor when he spotted the Captain’s body covered in the white sheet.

“Haggar, there’s a body.”

The witch must have been Haggar, for she then moved swiftly into the parlor and bent down upon the Captain’s body, removing the sheet from his face.

“He is dead, how pathetic,” she sneered. “Find his belongings and make sure the map is with it. If you see the boy bring him to me.”

At this I grasped my knife tighter, its handle feeling warmer in my grip though I thought this was due to my nerves and blood pulsing faster through my body. The four-armed alien made his way upstairs and I could hear two doors open and belongings strewn about until he at last must have opened the door to the Captain’s room and gave a cry out.

“It’s here, Haggar! Sendak’s chest! But it’s open and the telescope ain’t there.”

She gave a horrible curse and I felt static all around, tingling my arms and making my hair stand on end. “Find the boy! No aircrafts have been spotted through these parts today, he must still be here!”

I heard the four-armed alien start rifling through the rooms upstairs again as the large one approached the bar. I readied myself, and as he got closer and bent himself down to look behind the bar I sprang upon him, breaking a bottle of nunvil over his head and thrusting my knife into his side.

He yelled out at the impact and stumbled slightly, the thick liquid running down his face and dripping off of his nose; but he quickly regained himself in time to clutch me by the scruff of my collar and throw me into the wall. I could feel the telescope take the impact and there was a horrible cracking noise, but I could not focus as the breath was knocked out of me.

“What a waste of a drink,” the large alien said.

“You carousing fool! He has the telescope on his back!” Haggar screamed, “Bring him to me!”

The alien once more grabbed me by the nape and dragged me from around the bar to the front of Haggar. Up close I could see that under her hood she, too, was not human. Her purple skin gave away Galra heritage, but red marking ran down her eyes and cheeks like blood. Her face was gaunt and without empathy and I could tell nothing by looking into her yellow eyes.

“Now human, you will hand over the map if you wish to live another day to care for this dusty inn,” she said.

“Map?” I said, feigning innocence, “this is just a telescope, I thought it would fetch a price at the Sunday market.”

“Just a telescope? Do you have any idea what you currently possess? That telescope was Captain Zarkon’s life blood, he ended his own crew – his own family for the secrets it bears. And now you will hand it over to its rightful owner or you will reach their same fate.”

I highly doubted they would spare me once the telescope was within their reach. The other alien descended the stairs at that moment, and I took the brief pause of their eyes to force the back of my head into the taller alien’s chin. He made a loud noise of discomfort and released me from his grasp; I kicked away from him not a moment too soon for the four-armed alien fired upon me, missing and hitting his companion square in the chest. He fell backwards upon a sofa in what would have been a most comedic way in less terrifying circumstances.

But I could not dwell for the four-armed alien was upon me like a dog, his guns glowing their sinister purple at the barrel. Remembering the heavy telescope upon my back, I turned ‘round to use it as a shield as I made headway to the front door. I looked over my shoulder as the witch screamed at the alien and forced his gun to point away from me, its laser hitting the kitchen door so as not to damage the telescope any more than it was.

 The prickling had returned; the hair on my arms and head standing to attention as the witch raised her arms and lightning shot down as if the ceiling were the heavens itself. I jumped back as one bolt hit right in front of the doorway, scarring the poor floor as it smoldered.

I could feel, then, that these were no ordinary pirates, and this was no witch to be taken lightly; hers was a dark magic. Something within told me they could not take ownership of the telescope, no matter the cost, and I could feel a warmth at my side this time emanating from my knife.

As the witch and the alien drew near once more I unsheathed my blade and it glowed brilliantly in the dark inn, elongating into a full single-edged sword. I made a clean stroke against whomever was closest, the alien, and his oil lantern fell igniting a fire between us.

“It does not belong to you!” Haggar cried out, and more lightning shot through the inn hitting many spaces including the other alien. He went limp and fell upon the ground and then the fire began to spread up the wall and through the house.

Smoke shrouded the house causing me to cough and blunder, and as I once more headed for the front door I could hear Haggar scream curses until the ceiling caved in and fell upon her. I did not look back after that and ran to my hoverbike, heaving myself upon it in haste.

The poor old ‘Galaxy Grog and Inn’ fell to ash that night, and I was now without a family or a home. 


	6. The Desert

As I sped through the desert on my hovercraft towards the nearest town I reveled in the feeling of the cold wind whipping my hair around my face. For a moment I could forget the terrible circumstances I found myself in and allow myself a breath of peace, the first in what felt like months.

It was the last peace I would have for many weeks and was exceptionally short-lived, for an hour into my journey I found a young man broken down on the side of the road. He was a head shorter than myself, with mousy hair and large spectacles sliding down the front of his nose. His own vehicle – what looked to be a three-wheeled dune buggy of some sort – was smoking from the engine while he struggled to open a hatch with a wrench.

I slowed my own craft as I pulled up alongside him and looked down, attempting to catch his attention. But he forwent any sort of interaction in favor of banging his fist upon the hood until it popped open and a waft of dark grey smoke plumed in the air. As he coughed I was reminded of the inn, and how it, too, was now in smoke.

“Are you alright? Do you need a lift into town?” I asked, as the young man backed away from the engine and covered his face with a dirty cloth.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” he said while waving his hand at me in a dismissive way, “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thanks.”

The careless attitude put me off, and I turned to leave him behind; but at that moment his dune-vehicle’s engine gave a sad puttering noise and then a loud bang, shutting off completely and stopping its expulsion of smoke.

He gave a hasty kick to its side, and then angrily turned back towards me for I had stalled again to watch.

“Is that offer still available?” he asked through gritted teeth. I told him it was, and he grabbed his belongings and hopped onto the back.

We rode in silence for what must have been half an hour before the young man piped up.

“So, you’re not going to ask me my name? Or what I’m doing alone in the desert at this time of night?”

I told him it was not my business unless he wished it to be, and that I was also riding through the desert at this time of the night. He gave a thoughtful hum, and then dug into his rucksack fishing for something. He eventually pulled out what looked like a square instrument with dials and a screen.

“I’ve been collecting waves of gamma radiation from thunderstorms. It’s so weird because my instrument is picking up extremely high energy readings in this area, but storms are practically nonexistent! I can’t understand where it’s coming from, only that it was concentrated in this swathe of the desert and extending that way,” he said, pointing in the direction I had come from.

At his last word a large ship flew over us, it’s turquoise lights shining against the night sky and making the stars seem dim in comparison.

“I’m Pidge Gunderson, by the way.”

“Keith Hawkins,” I said, looking over my shoulder, “and I need to find a ship that will take me to space.”

“What, by yourself?” Pidge asked while attempting to look at me from around the telescope strapped to my back, “do you have money? A crew?”

“Not… exactly, no.”

“Well, good luck buddy.”

As we drew closer to the town more ships could be seen flying overhead, their loud engines and bright lights a stark contrast to the night sky. The port in town was not the largest, but it was busy enough to be considered one at the very least.

Pidge asked to be dropped off at a quaint house on the outskirts of town with the promise of returning to his vehicle with a mechanic friend the next day. We bade our farewell and I returned to the task at hand, of finding Dr. Kolivan and inquiring his opinion on the matter at hand.

Seeing as I had no place to stay I thought it would make most sense to give an impromptu visit to the Doctor, who was as close of a family friend as my father had allowed. Upon finding his home I knocked heavily on the door, hoping it was loud enough to wake someone to answer.

An older human woman answered and, upon hearing my name, promptly told me that Dr. Kolivan had a busy day and was asleep, but that I could stay in the guest’s quarters until morning when she would alert the Doctor of my presence.

After showing me to the room I thanked her and slid into bed, desperate for sleep to overtake me. In what felt like the blink of an eye, I was awoken by the sun’s rays shining through the window and alighting the indigo room. I quickly ran down the stairs and into the dining area, where I found Dr. Kolivan seated, eating his breakfast.

He did not seem surprised to see me, which meant his house attendant had alerted him of my early morning arrival. Rather than ask about my extenuating circumstances, he merely indicated a chair with his hand and had a plate of food brought out. Dr. Kolivan was a heavy presence, all at once a calming force and a nerve wracking one.

Once fed, I thought it best to explain myself before becoming more burdensome than necessary. I told him of the blind witch that came to visit, of the black spot, the Captain’s death, and the burning of the ‘Galaxy Grog and Inn.’ He listened patiently, and when I had finished he finally asked his questions.

“Do you know why the pirates and the witch showed up? What of Sendak’s they were looking for?”

I nervously twisted my fingers together under the table and thought of the telescope in the room above. If I told Dr. Kolivan about it, he would undoubtedly become entangled in its unfortunate happenings. But, this would mean I had another ally, and potential for a ship.

I decided to put my cards with the Doctor, he had never done my family wrong and was, for all I could see, an honest man. He listened thoughtfully and made a noise when I mentioned the path that alighted when I looked through the telescope lens.

“You’ll be wanting to find this planet, then? This ‘Gold Core’?”

I nodded enthusiastically, and he leaned back in his chair in thought.

He called for his house attendant to get in touch with the town Squire, and to have him come over at once. The attendant hurried off, and he must have noticed the look on my face for he then explained the reasoning to me.

“The Squire is an… interesting man, with many bizarre hobbies and curiosities. He has enough money for a ship and crew, which will be needed for any far-reaching space expedition. I feel this trip will be right on the nose for his interests. If we’re lucky, he will agree and allow us to take control of the operation, while only asking for compensation in return.”

I made another face and looked out the window, wondering what this Squire would be like and if he would agree to such a fantastic request.


End file.
